


Harry's Birthday

by Ecila



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Birthday Smut, Fluff, Journey, M/M, present, surprise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecila/pseuds/Ecila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Harry's 19th Birthday, his boyfriend Louis has big plans that include a whole arrange of events, meetings, days and night out and a lot of ways to make Harry happy and sated... and Louis knows loads of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story is highly inspired by a very special openly-homosexual man. No, I don't mean either Lou or Harry xP
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys, nor is this anything but an AU, in which the boys happen to be in a band called One Direction as well and... yeah.

Harry Styles whines on and on to Liam’s shoulder about feeling neglected by his boyfriend, because he does. All Louis has said to him ever since the interview, which had been hours ago, was a brief “Hey luv, I’m starved. Gonna eat now” and didn’t even bother asking whether he wanted to tag along. As much as Harry shoved if off as something that bothers him, he is really upset about it. Especially because he then saw Louis and Zayn link arms and skip off to, wherever they fucking want to eat. So that’s why Harry goes to Liam to complain and whine, because Liam is just Daddy Direction and there for you.  
Especially because your boyfriend is busy going to eat some stupid dinner with your friend. There is something awfully wrong and ridiculous about the whole situation and Harry is just frankly too upset to think about it and instead keeps complaining and whining and buries his face into Liam’s strong chest and mutters something incoherent along the lines of angry “why do I even date that prick”.  
Liam, always the nice comforting lad he is, rubs Harry’s back soothingly, “Because you love him, mate.” He replies the very much rhetorical question with a warm smile, because that is true. Harry does love Louis. In fact, he loves the crazed oldest lad of the band so much, that not only the press, but the fans and management too, picked up on it. While the press was being not subtle and quite a bit obnoxious about Harry possibly head over heels for his fellow mate, and the fans were beyond delighted, hell thrilled about it, management gave the situation the damp. So Louis and Harry had to sign that stupid agreement of not doing any sort of photos with just the two of them and not sitting next to each other in interviews – one per month is the limit. And especially not being handsy in public either. They couldn’t prohibit their relationship, but they could well demand how the two of them should and should not interact in public.  
Which caused a spasm in the crowds of their fans, because both agreements and rules leaked to twitter somehow and the fans, especially the self-entitled Larry shippers like they called themselves, where frankly offended and outraged on behalf of Louis and Harry. They even started petitions that had more than million signatures about “setting Larry Stylinson free” and Harry may or may not have made a private account named BoobearLover and signed the petition on twitter. Or the twittition. Is that a word?  
As it turns out, the majority of One Direction fans are either madly in love with Larry Stylinson or completely against it, though the amount crazed shippers outweighed the haters by far. So that the petitions kept getting more persistent, added to each blog, to each post on tumblr, facebook, twitter, you name it, the shippers did it. Every social network possible was flooded with “Set Larry Stylinson free”-petition-requests and Harry and Louis may or may not have smiled proudly at what their fans had done for them and in moments of buzzed drunkenness shed a few tears of gratitude for them too.  
Louis kept tweeting those cryptic tweets, seemingly random love confessions when he said:  
1:23am @Louis_Tomlinson: I love you guys so much, swear to god. So grateful to have you all! Xx  
2:09am @Louis_Tomlinson: Guys, you’re too amazing… we’re so grateful to have y’all!!! Xx  
2:11am @HarryStyles: @Louis_Tomlinson I dunno what we deserved them for. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! Xx  
But the fans don’t know that Louis is half in tears when tweeting that, tears of pure gratitude and warmth in his chest when he sees the effort so many people put into all this, just for him and Harry. For their love. And he is floored with how lucky he is to have so many supporters and feels a bit pathetic, because he knows a few more tears roll down his cheeks. So in those nights, Louis sniffs and then laughs brokenly, when seeing Harry in about the same state and they smile and laugh at each other and then pull one another into a bone-crushing hug, because the warmth of their bodies is warm and soothing.  
They sob a little drunkenly, feeling light and happy because god, so much support is an amazing feeling and let their lips briefly brush one another, before Louis pulls away and smiles at Harry. “We’re so pathetic.” He laughs and presses his lips firmly to Harry’s again.  
Harry, a crying happy mess, laughs and nods his head, curls flying, “That we are…” he whispers, voice even raspier than usual as his eyes flicker over Louis’ lips and the beam that is his smile brightens.  
That night, when they finally stop the pathetic crying they make love on their, well technically Louis’ couch, because Harry’s name is not in the contract of the house – not yet. But as much time as Harry spends there, it might as well be his home as well. It is, really. Harry’s home is where Louis is. And when they are sleepy, satisfied and content and sweaty on the couch, Louis trails his fingers along Harry’s abs and smiles softly.  
“I wanna come out, Haz.” He whispers so nonchalantly and smiles that Harry needs a few second to register and understand.  
When the curly haired lad finally understands, his head whips around, “Really?” his jade orbs are of an unreadable intensity, but they gleam and that is maybe not a bad sign.  
“Yeah,” Louis smiles and meets Harry’s eyes, completely content with the both of them naked and sweaty and still covered in their come and just lazy. He leans slightly up, pushes his lips against Harry’s and lets out a content sigh, “I really do. That is, if you’re ready.” Louis’ hesitant cobalt depths flicker to Harry, the oceanic cobalt blue meeting jade emerald orbs with the freckles of gold, “Are you?”  
Harry stares at Louis, tries to remember each fine life of his crinkles that appear when he smiles, wants to inhale the intoxicating scent that is simply Louis and wants to memorize curve of Louis’ lips when they form that breath-taking knee-weakening smile and he wants take a picture that could hold all perfection that is Louis and carry it with him till his very death, but Harry knows nothing could compare with the real deal. So he utters his thoughts in his silly, verbal diarrhea-style, jumbled and lacking sense. “I want to capture a picture of your scent and then you’d be with me forever, ‘cause you’re so perfect and your smile is… can’t even describe it, and your eyes and yeah… you’re just too much and I want to keep you like that, but no picture can keep scent, y’know? They should really invent that, and you’d still not be properly expressed, not in the future-with-scent version of a picture, ‘cause you’re just too… yeah, and that really sucks, ‘cause I want to take that with me until I die, but can’t ‘cause it doesn’t exist yet and it’d never be able to compare to the real deal. Which is you. And… yeah.” Harry looks helplessly at his hands and then bites his bottom lip. “You can’t put me on the spot like that, Lou… I don’t… I don’t even know what I’m sayin’!” Harry then complains and just really wants to shove Louis away and wants to cuddle into him at the same time. Since when did life become so complicated? Oh yeah, since he experienced the great feeling that is love, which happens to come with many difficult challenges. Such as talking like looking at Louis – which is about the most impossible task. Or keeping quiet, when Louis does his magic on Harry’s body.  
“What… are you on?” Louis finally cracks up and chuckles into Harry’s shoulder, kissing Harry’s still sensitive skin, “God, I really had no idea you could talk so fast… yah?” he whispers, brushing higher and running his lips along Harry’s neck. “You’re too ‘dorable, love.”  
Harry groans and shakes his head and feels heat rush to his cheeks, “S’just… nothing, I just… I love you, a lot.”  
Louis smiles, feels the beaming take over his whole features and feels a bit schoolboy all over, but he doesn’t care as he leans down to peck Harry’s lips softly. “Good. ‘Cause I love you right back.” He whispers, voice a bit rougher from all the moaning and groaning that pulled at his vocal chords – plus the actual vocal training is maybe a bit straining for his voice at some point. The point would be about now.  
“Yeah?” Harry smiles cheekily, knows the answer but also loves hearing it. Loves being assured that the love of his life returns the feelings.  
“’Course I do, Haz.” Louis replies, voice a bit surprised, because Louis really thinks that by now Harry should know Louis’ feelings. Then he grins, realizing that of course the younger lad knows and he just really likes to hear it, that cheeky lil’ bastard. “I love you as much as the neighbour next door.” Louis adds, if only to tease and succeeds as always.  
“The neighbour?” Harry repeats, incredulity in his voice heavy and stricken as he inhales slowly, “Who is that fuckin’ bas—”  
“Didn’t take you for the gullible sort.” Louis interrupts what would have been an adorable curse of profanities from his beloved lover and because Louis thinks Harry is still a bit sore, he would rather not be turned on again, so it’s best to stop him before those sexy profanities leave those lush lips and make it impossible for Louis to resist.  
“You—Lou!” Harry whines, voice awfully sexy when sounding so raspy.  
“Sorry, love.” Louis, visibly, is everything but sorry, but he smiles so happy and joyous that Harry simply leans upwards and connects their lips, threading their fingers together.  
“You’re my home, Lou.”  
“And I know for a fact that you’re my life, Harry Styles.”  
“Yeah?” Harry feels Louis’ thumb on his cheek, beams at him so wide it splits his face in half.  
“No, I was only kidding.” Louis grins and nuzzles his nose against Harry’s neck and feels the younger lad groan in response.  
“You’re too mean to me!” Harry grumbles, obviously pouting.  
“Sorry babe, you just look too cute like that.” Louis replies, smile so wide and brilliant that Harry is immediately infected, his heartbeat speeding up, “You’re not my life, Harry.” And Louis drops the smile, cuddles into Harry’s chest and places his ear right above Harry’s heart to hear the fast-paced rhythm and smiles again, this time even wider. “You,” he pokes Harry’s chest playfully, “Are my heart,” his finger traces circles right above Harry’s heart, “my love,” and he pokes Harry’s dimple that reveals themselves, before his fingers return to circling right above Harry’s heart, “my day, my night, my air, my addiction,” and Louis meets Harry’s eyes then, smile all content and happy on his lips as he continues, “My joy, my meaning of life, my entire twisted messed up world, Harry Styles. That you are and so much more…” and Louis smiles afterwards so happy and beaming that Harry can’t resist all that and fiercely pulls Louis’ body against his, heat in his every core, a passionate heat in his stomach along awfully cliché fluttering that Harry never thought possible.  
“Make love to me…” Harry’s raspy baritone whispers and he smiles when he sees Louis’ cobalt eyes changing colour to a much darker shade, a nice aqua, maybe.  
“You sure?”  
Harry knows Louis can’t resist at this point anymore, and laughs, and also is interrupted mid-laugh, when Louis leans down and ravishes his body and evokes obscene inhuman noises from Harry. Louis is a real miracle-worker. His whole body is. But then again, it’s not only magic, it is the very irresistible definition of sex itself. Louis is pure sex and yeah, Harry gets to have him for whatever miracle.  
After they both come down from their orgasms, Louis slowly pulls out of Harry, sleepier than before and awfully pleased.  
“Yeah, I do…” Harry whispers with half-closed eyes and a soft smile tracing his lips.  
“Do what?” Louis whispers, more of a faint breath than real words.  
“Wanna come out. Wanna claim you mine.” And then he threads their fingers together again and squeezes them tightly, “‘Cause that’s what you are. Mine.” And Harry falls asleep after that, leaving a flustered, heart-skipping Louis, who has an awfully face-splitting smile engraved on his lips. And he can’t shake it, not when he hears those words and knows Harry means it.  
Back into the present, Liam strokes Harry’s back, whispers comforting words and, really, he tries to make Harry feel better, but honestly, he knows from experience with Harry that nothing but Louis could cheer him up. So Liam sends the oldest lad a text, complaining that Louis keeps abandoning Harry and that he should get to Liam’s flat this instant.  
Louis had replied quite quickly, saying that he’d ‘love to come, but is helpin Zayn out on something, sorry. Tell him I love him. Xx –L’.  
So reluctantly Liam utters, in the middle of an awkward silence words that don’t lighten the situation, “Louis says he loves you, mate.”  
And Harry lifts his head, as if to understand what Liam is saying. “What?”  
“Louis... he, uh, texted. Says he’s helping Zayn and he’s sorry. He loves you.”  
Harry sighs, fiddles with his hands and shakes his head, shoving his curls to the side. “M’I being too clingy?” he breathes out, jade eyes dimming on their own account.  
Judging from the tone Harry’s voice has, slightly trembling, he really means it and Liam is quite a bit upset for his friend, so he does the only reasonable thing and pulls Harry close to his chest, rubs his back in soothing manners and whispers “S’all good, love… s’all good. You’re being perfect, Harry. And Louis loves you.” It’s nothing new to Harry – or it shouldn’t be, but Liam has the feeling the younger lad really needs to hear the words, so he repeats them and ruffles through Harry’s wild curls. “He loves every bit of you, yeah? He loves you so much, we consider him crazy.”  
Harry cracks a smile, “You consider him crazy, ‘cause he is.”  
“True that,” Liam shrugs and grins. “So, stop with the pouting yeah? Lou will be back soon. He’s helpin’ Zayn, you heard it. Which explains that he’s an incredible lad. Yeah?”  
Harry nods, lets out a breath, because obviously he knows pretty well how damn great his boyfriend is. But he misses Louis and the fact that he’s been so busy lately gets to Harry more than he’s willing to admit. It really upsets Harry.

Things continue like that, Harry trying to spend time with Louis, but the latter often brushes him off, says something about either of the other lads or calls it an “family emergency” and when Harry suggests he tag along, because he misses Jay and the girls, Louis opens his mouth and then shakes his head, “Sorry Haz, mom has been so stressed that the house is a mess and she really doesn’t want you seeing it.” He briefly explains and Harry, for once, is not sure whether Louis is telling the truth. Louis can be one hell of a liar and even if Harry likes to think he can see straight through every lie Louis tells, Louis is one incredible actor. So he just really doubts Louis’ words, but can’t find any proper reason for Louis to lie, so he drops it with a bit built up frustration about Louis being so much gone, when Harry’s birthday is coming up and– oh. Harry’s eyes widen in surprise and then he smiles.  
Shit, why hasn’t he thought of that sooner? Louis is surely planning something for his birthday! It is in about 5 days after all. Oh god, he can’t believe he’s been so oblivious to all that and shakes his head, the wide smile now stretching across his face.  
So as the days pass awfully slow and the lads keep Harry company, Louis mainly goes out of his way to do ‘some stuff’, which Harry now happily accepts, seeing as his boyfriend is probably doing something pretty great for his 19th birthday. Louis is quite creative, so really the variety of presents he could be receiving his endless. So Harry is obviously burning with curiosity about what he’ll receive and counts the seconds for his special day to come.  
When February 1st finally is about to come, Harry goes to sleep especially early, to awake earlier on his special day. Earlier turns out to be about 8am. So when Harry’s long lashes flutter open, he lets out a happy sigh and turns to Louis beside him, whose still in deep slumber and does the first thing that comes to mind – he jumps onto Louis’ and shouts into his ear that it’s his birthday.  
Louis groans, pushes Harry mindlessly and mutters a “shut’up, s’too early for’at.” And rolls onto his other side to try to keep the slumber with him and not wake up fully.  
Harry frowns, “Lou, it’s my BIRTHDAY!” he replies for emphasize, straddling Louis’ sides now, “Lou…” he stretches his lover’s name, frowning deeper. “Wake’up! I—Louuu!” he whines and he doesn’t feel bad, because today is his day and he can be as much of annoying twat as he likes.  
“L’right.” Louis mutters voice raspy and sleepy as he mindlessly touches around the mid-air for Harry’s face before cupping it with both hands. He pulls Harry down and places his lips against his and moves them slowly in sync, smiling lightly by Harry’s enthusiastic response. “‘appy birthday, Haz.” Louis whispers, eyes still half closed, but they’re directed to Harry and yeah, Harry may have smiled a bit too widely for it to be normal and natural but who the fuck cares. It’s Louis and he looks beautiful all sleepy and, oh god, Harry is utterly in love with this fool.  
“Now sleep,” Louis’ raspy voice whispers as he places his arm around Harry’s torso, pulling him downwards, on top of him. “Love you, but… just sleep, please?” Louis whispers and his voice sounds so tired that Harry gives in and wraps his arms tightly around Louis and flips them over, so Louis is laying half on his chest and cuddles into him.  
“Okay, Boo.” Harry whispers, because birthday or not, he’s quite sure he can’t refuse Louis anything, no matter how hard he tried. He’s a fool for Louis and gone too deep.  
So they both only wake up to the smell of cake and Niall’s face about an inch apart from theirs. And Harry jumps in shock, when Zayn and Liam armed with about a billion balloons and three different cakes sing loud and cheerily ‘happy birthday Harry!’ and smile brilliantly in addition, as Niall about shouts the songs into both their faces with his cheery Irish accent.  
Harry laughs, sees the 19 candles on each of the cakes and smirks, “Y’know I’m not turning 57, right?”  
Zayn is the first to catch on and laughs, “Right… our bad. Then I guess you choose one cake and we’ll keep the others. No problem at all. Lou made’em after all. I think maybe you’re better left off without any cakes so you can rest assured. No illness and all that. In fact, I love you so so much, Harry, I’ll eat’em all for you. Well, Niall and I will, because—” Zayn only rambles on and on because he can and no one interrupts him.  
Well, finally Harry does. “What?” his jade eyes wide, as they settle on Louis, warmth pooling in his stomach that very much resembles pure love. “You… you baked me cakes?” Harry knows how raw his voice then sounds, how his voice slightly tremble within the last word. And oh god, when did he turn into such a sap? But he can’t help it, when he imagines Louis risking his life to make him a cake. Which is very likely what happened, because it’s Louis in a kitchen. He might be even more in love with this fool than he’s ever realized. “Which… which kitchen did you nearly burn down?”  
Louis laughs, choked and joyous due to Harry’s wide smile, “Zayn’s. Liam wouldn’t let me and Niall’s was a mess.” He explains, cobalt eyes twinkling in happiness by the sight of his delighted boyfriend.  
“God, don’t… don’t risk your life for things like baking,” Harry warns and wants to sound stern, because Louis is the only person he knows that seriously injures himself in the kitchen by baking, such as catching quite literally fire and yeah, but also Louis is just so so precious to Harry, that he doesn’t know what else to say then tell him to be careful. “I would never forgive myself if you hurt yourself for my cake.” Harry says, taking Louis’ hand slowly and examining each finger, each inch of skin with cautious eyes.  
“He didn’t burn himself,” Zayn snorts, making sure to emphasise the last word, “He nearly burned me.” He adds after a dramatic pause for effect and then shoves Louis playfully, “Prick he is, to watch the fire instead of trying to distinguish it.” He shakes his head in disbelief at the memory.  
Louis laughs, “The colours were fascinating, mate… if you had given it time, you would’ve started staring too. I’m sure.”  
“Yeah, well, I’m sure I’d not do it, since it’s my house, Lou. Not yours.” Zayn replies, his voice a tad bitter, but he’s interrupted by a snort of surprise.  
“You did not actually burn down his kitchen!” Harry exclaims, eyes scandalized wide and his lips curving undeniably upwards. Prick the birthday kid, Zayn thinks. But because it is his birthday, Zayn keeps quiet and gives him a playful glare instead.  
“Well, as you see, the cakes were made, so no, he didn’t entirely ruin my kitchen. He had to buy me a new oven, though.” Zayn smirks and adds the embarrassing detail that Louis made him promise to keep between the two of them, because after the little –or not so little– fire-incident the oven had been quite burned and unfixable. Also, Zayn wanted new equipment in his flat, so it was quite the good timing that Louis burned down his things and had to replace them. By no means is the raven-haired boy short on money, but if he can get his friend to pay for his wellbeing, why the fuck not?  
Harry sputters out a loud laugh and nearly topples over on Louis’, or rather their shared wide bed. “S-shit,” and he coughs and laughs and looks so lovely that Louis really doesn’t know what to do with his hands and his tongue and – oh, he really wants him.  
“Oi, keep your lil’ friend’in check, mate!” Niall exclaims, Irish accent heavy on each word, as he motions toward Louis’ pelvis that seems to react quite well to his own fantasies.  
“He isn’t little, I should know,” Harry smirks and earns himself groans from the three boys that have never had any form of sexual intercourse with Louis to know that information by themselves.  
“Not… something I want to know.” Liam exclaims, shakes his head vividly and groans. “God, mental image… make it stop!”  
Louis laughs loudly, not able to hide it. Harry grins, “No mental image can compare to the real deal…” and he grins widely, when he reaches out his hand and pats Louis’ crotch playfully and earns himself the same groans again.  
“Jesus, stop it! You guys aren’t alone and neither of us want to know all that.” Zayn replies, shaking his head in bewilderment.  
“Actually, I’m quite a bit interested,” Niall then chimps in, grinning. “You see, I’ve always been wondering, who tops? ‘Cause I’m really not sure. See, Harry is taller, but Louis looks stronger, I think? So I was really pondering about that and never came to a proper—”  
“NIALL!” Liam exclaims, eyes wide, his voice completely scandalized.  
Zayn bursts into loud laughter, barely holding himself up and gripping onto Liam’s shoulders in the process to not drop the cake.  
Louis and Harry exchange glances and then grin at Niall. “You mean, who’s in front and who is behind?” Louis smirks and turns to Harry, “We kinda share that, really. Sometimes I take the front, sometimes the back…”  
“Yeah, when Lou’s really tired, I go and… push him along.” Harry smirks, remembering their reference of their interview a year ago, when they were asked about Mario Cart and their playing habits. Neither of them was referring to Mario Cart though.  
Zayn laughs only louder, throwing his head back. This is all too much. Sort of nostalgic too.  
While Liam looks completely traumatized, eyes wide in disbelief, “Why would you even tell us that?!” he exclaims, voice a notch higher, sounding completely horrified.  
Meanwhile Niall’s sky blue eyes light up, “Yeah? You share that? Shit, then I guess I lost the bet.” He shakes his head in utter amusement, “Though I guess I shou’ve figured Harry wouldn’t always let ya top. But I was so sure dat you’d always be toppin’, Lou… ‘cos, you’re so… fulla energy an’ stoff.” Niall shrugs and laughs about his own words, not even noticing how Liam literally shrinks away by how this conversation develops.  
Louis snorts, shaking his head, “Niall, Niall, Niall… my little backdoor virgin,” and he watches in utter amusement as Liam’s hazel eyes keep growing wider, “Lemme tell you something,” and there Liam goes, into that shocked frozen state, while Zayn laughs his ass off, “The one who bottoms can be in charge too, y’know? Ever heard of the term riding?”  
And that’s just too much. Zayn nearly falls to the floor with his booming laughter and hurting stomach from the amount of laughing. Liam’s eyes widen to the size of saucers and just stares in shock and bewilderment, while Niall lets out one of his classic adorable laughs, “Shit… yeah, sorry. I didn’t even consider that.” He honestly says, surprise lining his eyes. “Really, I did not think about that at all.” And Niall is so sincere and normal about the whole subject, that Liam is frozen to a statue, and Zayn on the ground, laughing.  
Harry is in a similar state as Zayn, bend over on the bed, visibly cracking up and chortling out loud laughter, while he holds his stomach that aches a little from the laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will probably take a while to post, but I hope it'll be as entertaining and funny as I anticipate it to be.  
> I hope you find time to comment? And subscribe to me, if you like my writing! Thanks, lovelies!
> 
> -E


End file.
